Hello World
by RoseTylerBadWolf
Summary: Christine Jenkins used to be naïve and trusting of the world. She believed that nothing bad would happen to her, until one day, her whole life changed perspectives. Ever since a fateful November day, she feels someone watching over her. As if trying to protect her. Little does Castiel know, this woman doesn't want to be protected. Cas/OC.
1. Prologue

**Prologue: That November Day**

November 16th.

That day will stand out to me forever. Every year that day comes around, I am reminded of what happened that day.

The day I finally took my head out of the clouds and made the discovery that reality was a cruel being, not caring who or what it took out of life. From that point forward, I no longer saw the world as I once used to.

When I first went out on my own, I saw the world through rose-colored glasses, as it's frequently said. No one had told me otherwise: my parents were free-thinking people, always telling me that if I just dream hard enough, I could get whatever I wanted. That's how I was raised. The world, however, had different plans for me.

November 16th, 2010, had started out like any other day for me, with some strange differences. I had woken up later that day, later than normal because I had been sick the night before. I panicked, thinking my five-year old daughter, Rosanna, would be late for school. However, I soon remembered that my husband, Nate, had volunteered the night before to drive her. I laid back down, sighing in relief. Then, a few minutes later, the phone on Nate's nightstand rang. Unknowing and naïve, I picked it up.

"Hello?" I had answered in a raspy, cough-rattled voice.

"Are you Mrs. Christine Jenkins?" another voice, unrecognizable to me, replied.

"Yes-*cough, cough*-may I ask who's calling?"

"I'm Officer Derek Higgins of the Indianapolis Police Department. I regret to inform you that your husband, Nathan Jenkins and your daughter Rosanna have been in an accident involving a drunk driver and their injuries were fatal."

That single moment in time was when everything I'd ever known and loved, was shattered. My whole world was crumbling down right in front of my eyes. Everything was out of my control.

And for the first time in my life, I didn't know what to do or say. Even in my weakened, sick state, I felt more powerless than I'd ever felt before.

I hung up the phone, laid back down in bed, and didn't get up for the next four days. My mother and father finally had to come get me out of bed and made me go to the funeral.

Family members I had never met before in my life were consoling me, trying—and failing—to tell me everything was going to be okay. That with time, I'd move on and find someone new to fall in love with and to have another child with. That if I just picked myself up and dusted myself off, I'd be happy again.

I wasn't. Each passing day was harder to get through than the last. Every day, going to and from work, I would pass a little white church. It was the same one that Nate and I had gotten married in seven years before. It was the church that Rosanna was baptized in. It was the church where their funeral was held.

Each day, after work, I stopped in. I'd sit in the pew we used to all sit in during Sunday service, kneel down, and start to pray. It would be the same prayer, over and over again.

"Lord, give me strength to make it through the night and another day, make me stronger even though I feel weak. I pray for the safety of my little girl Rosie and Nate, for their souls are with You now. I pray that angels watch over them, each and every one. Make sure that Rosie keeps herself out of trouble and that Nate doesn't work too hard. I thank You, Lord, for taking in their souls. I know in Your care they will be safe. Amen."

After I would say that, I'd stand up from my knees, look up at the ceiling as if I was looking for them. They never showed, so I always went to leave. But for some reason, I would always feel eyes on me from afar, pouring into me. Like someone was watching me. _Perhaps an angel…_ I had thought. Soon enough, I pushed that thought out of my head and tried to ignore the feeling.

But there was definitely something watching. And I didn't know what.

However, I was going to find out.


	2. Chapter One: Someone Watches Over Me

**Chapter 1: Someone Watches Over Me**

_Present day_

_December 20__th__, 2013_

As I opened the door to my apartment, I was met with a welcoming, warm air that was a stark contrast to the cold and stale weather that I had to tromp through to get home from work. Of course, I had stopped by the little church again, reciting the same prayer over and over at least three times.

This had become more than routine to me. It was almost second nature.

When I had first started going, it was hard. It wasn't just because it was the church the funeral was held in; it was also because I was hardly religious, despite my devout Catholic upbringing. Sure, I believed in God and the Resurrection, but I just couldn't get into it like my parents did. I was from a different generation; although that didn't stop them from forcing Catholicism down my throat. Because of that, Nate never made me go to church, and we never went to midnight Mass at my parents' church for Christmas.

But the accident and losing Nate and Rosanna made me gain faith that I didn't even know I had. I started to go to church regularly every Sunday. I kept a copy of the Bible on my coffee table and went through it every night, trying to memorize it. I had even worked up the courage to go to midnight Mass with my parents last Christmas. And I planned to go to the next one, only five days away.

I kicked off my squeaky and wet black boots, my feet almost immediately warming up. I shed my jacket and hung it up on the coat hanger before walking over to the kitchen and pulling the leftover spaghetti from the fridge. I stuck it in the microwave, set the timer for a minute and waited.

While I waited, I glanced over to the fridge, where I kept a picture of me and Nate standing in front of the Capitol building in Washington, D.C., with me holding Rosanna in my arms. She was only three years old at the time and Nate had just gotten a raise at work, which was the entire reason we had went on that trip. Smiles graced all of our faces as we had asked another tourist to take our picture. I can even remember that day: it was the perfect day, seventy-five degrees and sunny. It was our first day there, and we spent the whole day sightseeing. The Capitol was the first thing we wanted to see.

Back in the present, a sudden wave of moroseness washed over me. It wasn't a crying sort of sad; it was a quiet sadness. The kind of sadness you never let people see because you don't want them jumping all over you.

I quickly shook the thoughts out of my head as the microwave timer beeped, signaling that my spaghetti was done. I carefully took it out, grabbed a fork and ate the semi-cold food hastily. When I finished it, I went to my couch, grabbed my Bible and started where I left off last. It was in Revelations.

"'Then I heard a voice from heaven say, "Write: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on." "Yes," says the Spirit, "they will rest from their labor, for their deeds will follow them.'," I recited quietly. I kept on reading through the entire thing, memorizing everything I could. When I finished, it was nearly midnight.

I walked lazily to my room and basically plopped onto my bed, closed my eyes and passed out in my work clothes. I was too tired to care at the time. I had no blankets on top of me and the furnace was running, keeping my room warm. My heels were still on my feet and my chocolate brown hair was splayed across the pillows. I tossed and turned the entire night. However, when I woke up, it was a different story.

When I opened my eyes, I was almost immediately shocked by the sight I saw. The blankets were covering my body neatly, as if I was placed into bed and tucked in like a child. I sat up, looked down at myself and my eyes widened. I was fully covered in my flannel pajamas and felt fuzzy socks on my feet. The room was still warm, so I tossed the blankets over my legs and swung my legs over the edge to stand up. My hand still traveled up to my head and I sighed in relief when I found my usually messy bedhead was still in check.

_This is odd…_I thought, and my mind suddenly went wild with crazy ideas. _Maybe this is a dream? _I immediately pinched myself on the bum, squealed slightly, then realized that I wasn't dreaming and this was real life. _Okay, it's not a dream._ I had to shake those thoughts, too, and focus on getting ready for work.

I decided to skip the shower and I combed my hair into a neat ponytail in front of the dresser mirror. I dressed in my usual white button-up shirt with long sleeves, black pencil skirt, and black heels. When I went to grab my coat hanging on the bedroom door hook, I noticed something…feathery on the floor.

I bent over to get closer to it and tenderly picked it up. It looked like a black bird's feather, but it felt too soft and was much longer than a normal bird's feather would be. I went over to the black box on my dresser and carefully set it in there to keep. I had to keep it in order to find out was going on because, as I knew it, things were getting stranger and stranger.

I quickly slipped on my coat and wrapped my scarf around my neck. Gathering all my belongings, I slipped out of the apartment and walked down the staircase to exit the complex. I normally walked to work, even in the worst weather conditions. Today was no exception. I strode carefully down the icy sidewalk, trying to be more wary of the ice patches that could possibly result in breaking an ankle, especially in heels. I walked for about a block when I came to the intersection between State Street and Cheyenne Avenue. I normally crossed this very cautiously, always checking for traffic coming from every direction. But today, I was too tired to care and had five minutes to get to work before I was late. I made the decision to just cross the intersection without looking.

The last thing I heard was a car screeching toward me, and then everything went black.


End file.
